


Reunion

by Topaz_Eyes



Category: 24
Genre: Episode Related, Gift Fic, Kissing, M/M, Missing Scene, Prompt Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-16
Updated: 2009-01-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 17:44:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Topaz_Eyes/pseuds/Topaz_Eyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack still couldn't reconcile the sense memory of Tony in his arms--half his face charred and the life in his eyes fading even as Jack fought to keep him--with the Tony living and breathing on the floor beside him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Purridot](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Purridot).



> A missing-scene kisslet for [](http://purridot.livejournal.com/profile)[**purridot**](http://purridot.livejournal.com/). Takes place after Day 7, 10:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m.

Bill floored the blue van as soon as Tony helped an injured Jack into the back of it.

The sudden forward motion slammed the van doors shut and flung both men backwards onto the ridged metal floor. Jack landed on his arm by instinct, but his fist jabbing into his already-aching ribs hurt like a son-of-a-bitch; the force of momentum and pain of his landing winded him for a moment.

Beside him, Tony rose on one elbow to shout to Bill.

"How long?"

"Fifteen minutes out."

"Can they track us?"

"Chloe's on it."

Jack, catching his breath, listened to the familiar cadence of Tony's words, looked up to see the well-remembered angle of Tony's jaw and chin. Even the harsh, surly edge to Tony's words, the hard, ruthless expression on the man's dour face, were part of Jack's memories of Tony Almeida.

Except Jack still couldn't reconcile the sense memory of Tony in his arms--half his face charred and the life in his eyes fading even as Jack fought to keep him--with the Tony living and breathing on the floor beside him.

Jack lived on his senses. He trusted his instincts. He knew Tony Almeida more than anyone alive, knew him down to his touch and taste and smell. But the stench of Tony's current anger and bitterness in the FBI office had overwhelmed any hint of him that Jack had filed away. He'd seen Tony frustrated and despondent, but this--

It was obvious that Bill Buchanan trusted this man implicitly, to the point of _Deep Sky_. But Bill too had been misled before, had placed his trust in the wrong person; hell, they all had. Double, even triple agents weren't unheard of: appearances could be surgically altered, voices re-trained, operatives conditioned. Jack had made enough mistakes today already; he couldn't afford to make another.

He had to know.

At that point, the van made a hard right, pushing Tony even closer against him, and Jack seized his chance to find out. He reached up to cup Tony's neck with his free hand and drew him down. Noses bumped as Jack's lips met Tony's with a pressure that was neither gentle nor firm, but simply questioning, is it _you_?

Tony's eyes widened in astonishment and his mouth dropped open; Jack immediately thrust his tongue inside to explore, keeping his eyes open for Tony's reaction. Tony didn't respond, but he didn't pull away, either, so Jack deepened the kiss, willing Tony to reply. His fingers smoothed over Tony's close-cropped head, missing the slight curls at the nape of his neck, but remembering its shape; he licked Tony's lower lip, sucking it gently.

After a long, suspended moment, finally there it was, Tony's response, his answering moan into Jack's mouth. Tony's eyelids fluttered shut as he returned the kiss; and _this_ was the man Jack remembered, in the salt tang of his upper lip, the coffee-tinged darkness in his mouth, the way their tongues twined. The way Tony's lips moved against his could not be faked, nor how Tony's hand crept up to caress just _there_ beneath Jack's earlobe.

Jack closed his eyes as relief and need welled up: so much to say, so little time to say it, all the words between them that could only be spoken and heard through taste and touch. The part of him he'd closed off when they'd covered Tony's body with a sheet all those years ago, was impossibly opening again, and in that moment, Jack simply allowed himself to feel it.

A wheel jolted against a pothole in the road, jarring the van and its unrestrained occupants. Jack groaned as pain shot through his ribs. Tony pulled back; despite his suddenly-closed face, the warmth and concern in his deep brown eyes could not be faked, either.

"Were you shot?"

"I don't think so. But I landed pretty hard there in the car."

"Let me check."

Tony heaved Jack to the side of the van, and sat him on a plank bench. Kneeling in front, he untucked Jack's shirt and pulled it up, palpating gently over the bruise blooming over his lower ribs.

"Jack's hurt!" he called to Bill. "How much longer?"

"Ten minutes."

"We need to go faster than that. Isn't traffic surveillance knocked out?"

"Chloe's blocked the cameras but we can't afford drawing any attention to the van. If we speed we risk getting pulled over by a ground cop."

"Bill's right," Jack added with effort. "Can't afford it."

Tony grunted a non-committal answer, and Jack remembered that too; he grinned in fond memory, until Tony probed an especially tender spot and he hissed in pain.

"Sorry."

They fell silent, Tony probing for injury, Jack brooding through the winces, until he finally had to ask.

"You died in my arms, Tony. I felt you die," he said quietly. "What happened?"

Tony looked up with a wry grin on his face. "I got better," he answered deadpan.

"You son-of-a-bitch." But Jack was grinning too.

Tony finished his inspection of Jack's side. "A couple of bruised ribs. Nothing broken. You were lucky." He clambered up to sit beside him, but turned his head away--in shyness or shame, Jack couldn't tell.

Jack reached out and grasped his wrist. "Look at me."

"I can't--"

"Please. Just look at me, Tony."

Tony turned, albeit reluctantly, and met Jack's gaze. Jack recognized the burden of guilt and haunted memory Tony carried in the shadow of his eyes; he swallowed hard past the sudden lump in his throat. Slowly, Jack reached up to cup Tony's jaw. Tony closed his eyes with a sigh as Jack's thumb stroked along the familiar wedge of cheek. Jack touched his forehead to Tony's for a moment.

"It's okay," Jack murmured. "It's all right."

Tony nodded; they drew back, and simply leaned against each other the rest of the way, steadying each other through the jostles and bumps and turns until Bill called back again.

"Pulling up to ops now."

Dammit. They pulled apart and looked at each other full-on as Bill turned the van left and decelerated.

"Welcome back, Jack," Tony said with a lopsided grin.

"Just like old times."

"Yeah."

The van stopped, and Jack braced himself. Their respite, however brief, was over; time for all hell to let loose again.

"Let's roll," Tony added, clambering up to open the van's loading door and jumping out.

"Let's do it." Jack leapt out after him.


End file.
